that keeps me coming back for more, each time the Sun dances into the sky or the moon crosses paths with the clouds. who am I kidding, it’s a million different things all wrapped into a cocoon of comfort and charm. the way your lips curl up, nestling your cheeks when contentment graces your being.…
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on those first few days at the beginning of September takes my breath away. there’s something about the time when the taste of those Summer nights still lingers on your tongue but the crisp embrace of Fall and all its delicacies is within arms reach. when you have to turn the swings over in order…
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As I fall up,I dance through the uncertainty, the joy, the pain, and the unknown. Every remembrance of past struggles, encounters, and experiences feels like a dark cloud that is slowly getting less dense, still lingering over my head but struggling to stay afloat as the clear sky slowly moves in. All the laughter, passion,…
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all I need “on the rocks” is the the salty tide what’s meant to flow throughout each vein what each inch of me craves after plummeting the slopes or dancing in the cool Fall breeze what flows down my cheeks when my soul speaks. whether with a sulky frown or a vibrating grin. for all…
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Believe me when I tell you the Earth is dancing at your toes. so step into her current. let her take you there. . I want to be outrageous sharp edged and earth colored. . they say emotions come in waves the good, the bad, and the in between for me they’re more like tsunamis …
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I’m choking on lumps of words in the back of my throat ruthless animals rattling a rusting silver cage just dying to be released take me back to the days where the words exploded from me, molten lava sentences cascading from eager lips syllables dripping off the tip of my tongue creating a molten pool…
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Her hips, like waves to the tide, swayed gracefully as the melodious music streamed throughout the ecstatic dance studio. The amber twinkle of her eyes caught mine as she moved mountains with the flow of her arms, her fingertips painting a masterpiece in the surrounding air. The purple-hued light reflected off her chocolate tresses perfectly…
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I looked where the damp, chocolatey soil nourishes the towering bold grand firs where the homey air feels like his hugs. where the wind whispers to the slithering streams Where the melody of the birds can be heard over the soft rumble of the city cars, the beep-beeps of those commuting home from their 9-5, …
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Swingsets, forest trails, swimming pools, and ski slopes. If freedom were to have a recipe, these would be the ingredients that so perfectly combine to create a taste that makes my mouth water. What’s your recipe? What parts of being, of breathing are painted with a scent more enlivening than fresh peppermint? If you’re not…
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Little Emma used to pour her whole being through paint onto paper, coloring her beaming cheeks with hues of deep purple and bold red. Or at least the photos claim. One resides in a photo album from when I was about five years old, overflowing with luminance as my blonde waves cascaded around my peachy…
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